One Last Chance
by ASummerBreeze
Summary: Rose lied when she told Brock she last saw Cal on Carpathia. In fact, she didn't tell him quite a bit. Cal/Rose with Rose/Jack and Rose/Calvert mentioned. A story in three parts.
1. Part 1

One Last Chance

AN- So I tend to write sympathetically toward Cal. I can't help it, I hate using him as a villain in stories set after or before the movie. This story explores a little more deeply into Rose and her feelings for Cal. I am hugely a Jack/Rose shipper and you'll notice, that comes through in this one shot too. Jack is the love of her life, but here, she does explore some emotional attachment to Cal.

I kind of wanted to make this into a chapter story but I'm not sure there would be an audience for that sort of thing. Let me know what you think either way! I really enjoyed writing this.

* * *

[1996]

After Brock and the others had heard her story, most of her story, at least, Rose had leaned on Lizzie as her beloved grandchild had guided her gently to go lie down. There were several things she had not discussed with them, the location of the necklace for instance, probably would have been of particular interest to Mr. Lovett and his crew, but Rose wouldn't be able to rest even knowing it was making the museum circuit, touring the world as a cold survivor of that night, one that had not aged a day. She had to send it back, it had to go be at peace, so that she could too.

A nap wouldn't hurt though.

Lying there with her pictures there to keep her company she studied them all, seeing all the things she had done. Things she had promised Jack she would do. Her eyes fell on the photo of her riding a horse in the surf with the Santa Monica roller coaster behind her and she glanced at the door to make sure it was shut. Slipping to sit on the edge of the bed, she picked the frame up in her hands and carefully slid the tabs on the back so she could remove it, revealing a brown piece of newspaper that was folded in quarters. Her hands trembled as she drew the sheet of paper out, and she unfolded it carefully, laying eyes on Cal's handsome face once again.

It was dated November 1929, and the picture was not of the same Cal that she had been engaged to. He was older, his hair graying, not necessarily because of age, Cal had only been four years her senior, but she imagined the stress of his life had done it. Rose didn't really know why she had kept it, or why she kept it a secret to this day. It was a reminder of times long past. In all truth, the last time she had seen Caledon Hockley had not been on Carpathia as she had told the crew and her granddaughter. The last time she had seen him had been two days after the article had been printed.

Her time with Cal had been so incredibly difficult and strange, she didn't really know why she had gone to see him that day. She didn't know, but deep down, despite everything that had been going on at the time, she didn't really regret it.

* * *

[November 3rd, 1929]

Rose had stopped dead short of the door ten minutes ago, and she was stuck. She had gotten all the way out to the building, had marched from the taxi up to this very spot and suddenly, her blood had run cold and she was staring at his door uncertainly. The nation was in such a panic these days, what with everything that the stock market crash had brought about. She had nearly forgotten about him until she had seen a handsome photo of him in the paper, looking serene and debonair at his desk, assuring people that Hockley Steel had not been seriously impacted by everything.

Of course, Rose knew better.

Walking into this building posed so many problems. The last time she had seen Cal, she had spat in his face and been running from him as he opened fire on her and Jack on the Grand Staircase. Titanic was so incredibly far behind her, this visit would open a lot of old wounds. Not to mention, probably, shock the hell out of him. For all he knew she was dead, and she imagined he had taken care of her mother, as any husband-in-practice would for his mother-in-law in the event that his spouse died in those days. The more she thought about the implications of walking into that building, the less she wanted to do it.

So it was to her great surprise when her hand finally pulled the door open and she approached the front desk. The secretary smiled, was very polite about it. Rose knew deep down she was wondering why a woman dressed like her, highly middle class and plain Jane, would want to pay Caledon Hockley, CEO of Hockley Steel, a visit. She also knew the young woman, who Cal probably had chosen simply because he had slept with her, would never be daft enough to ask.

She was sent upstairs to a second secretary, who sent her right into his office. Walking to the door, she took a few shuddering breaths. She didn't know why she was here. She had no idea why she was so concerned for him, but she was. And there was no turning back now. This was a leap she would have to make, and after all that she had survived, this had to be a piece of cake. It had to. Knocking on the door, she waited patiently for a response from within.

"Come in."

Rose Calvert was not terribly changed from Rose Dawson, and even, Rose Dewitt Bukater. She had dressed in her best, having felt an odd sense of…nostalgia. Seeing Cal again made her feel like she had to be impeccable. As an actress, that was not terribly difficult to pull off. She had saved quite a bit of money from her days on the silver screen and stage and had not been stupid enough to buy any stocks with it. As she stepped through the door, her heart was pounding. Cal did not immediately look up at the 34 year old version of his former fiancee, rather, he was focused on some papers on his desk. She saw his eyes lift ever so slightly, just to see her legs, and thus, her skirt. And she knew he was already fed up with his visitor.

"Madam, I apologize. I'm terribly busy right now, if you just go and speak with Bridget, she will make you an appointment," Knowing he had to show some good business savvy, he set his pen down and finally looked up at her. At first, he did not recognize her, again, not because she had changed, but because he had not seen her pale, round face in quite a long time. When her features clicked in his mind, at last, he removed his reading glasses from his face and stared at her. "R-rose?" She smiled, ever so slightly, and did not respond. He had to be seeing a ghost. "Sweetpea?"

Rose was suddenly unsure of what to say. Cal had certainly never been the love of her life, far from it, that honor would always belong to Jack. But in a way he had been her first love. He had been her dreaded future at one point. He had been her first lover. Sometimes Rose wondered what her life would be like if she had never left him, she knew she would never have achieved her dreams. She knew she wouldn't have had some many happy times, but deep down, somewhere, she longed for the stability and luxury that his wife now had the privilege of holding. She realized she had lost herself in these thoughts and so, with a deep breath, she finally responded, ever so gently, and familiarly. "Hello, Cal."

He was awestruck, his hands were flat on his desk and he was staring at her with his mouth open. Rose took the opportunity to shut the door to his office and sat in one of the chairs in front of him. Se drummed her fingers nervously, clearing her throat before she looked at him again. "I saw…I read about you in the paper and I just…"

"You're alive!" The shock, clearly, was beginning to fade, as his voice raised. "I looked for weeks, I…goddamit I took care of your wretched mother and…" His voice became softer. "And you were gone. That…that was terrible." He glanced her over briefly, she was still thin, but a little curvier. He assumed from having given birth and abandoned the corsets in her luggage on Titanic. Her hair was still long, and wrapped into a simple updo, and her face was still flawless and pale. There was a tiny, plain gold ring on her wedding finger. "Dawson. You took his name, of course." He stood to go to his liquor cabinet, pouring himself a scotch. "How is Dawson?"

Rose had calmly breathed through his tantrum and she fixed him with a steady glance. "Jack died," Their eyes met briefly, and she noted regret in his features, but he took a drink over saying anything on the matter. "He died on the 15th, before the boat came back for us. I did take his name though."

Cal swirled the amber colored liquor in his glass, and looked over at her. "Because…you did not wish to marry me. You didn't want to be found."

"No." She sighed. "Can I get one of those?" He seemed surprised but he nodded and poured another glass. Stepping to hand it to her he looked at her as if she might disappear, and it made her heart give and odd thump in her chest. She downed the glass in two gulps, her face scrunching at the terrible taste, but se gave a satisfied sigh. "My mother arranged the marriage to her own benefit and I…I wanted to be free. I wanted to start over. I wanted to live on my own terms…" His face clearly showed his opinion on the matter and she sighed.

It was Cal's turn to fill in the awkward silence. "But you did marry?"

"Yes," She nodded. "His name is John, I married him…oh. Eight years ago."

"Do you have any children?"

She paused at the question because it brought up a whole new mess to consider. "I do. I uh, I have four. Charles, Rebecca, Beverly and Samuel."

Cal nodded, sitting at his desk again. "I have four as well, Georgeanna, Nathaniel, Rose and James." He dug his cigarette box from the top drawer and popped it open, sticking a fag into his mouth before he paused, offering her one. "I don't suppose either of us will see your mother any time soon."

Rose stared at the fancy silver box for a moment and finally reached to take a cigarette, nodding. "Thank you." Cal struck a match and lit both before he stuck the box back into the desk. She was glad to have a sitraction from the subject of their children, particularly that he had a daughter named Rose. Anything to get her mind off of it was a welcome distraction. She drew the smoke deep into her lungs for the first time in a long time and exhaled slowly.

"Your husband no doubt, is very proud of your brood." He joked, and Rose, who would probably have beat him for saying it when she was seventeen, couldn't help but smile.

"Oh, he's always just pleased to be around them. He's a great father. A hell of a lot better than mine was," She exhaled another long puff of smoke and felt her nerves calm. "We only had the latter three together though, Charlie came with me when he married me."

Cal paused, his fingers just about to tug the butt from his mouth, but he took another drag instead, finishing it. He stubbed it out, blowing smoke all over the room. "I see your time with Jack..was quite fruitful."

She shook her head, twirling her cigarette between her fingertips. "No, Cal. I had him that October. He was completely developed when he was born," Her eyes lifted hesitantly to him. "Charles is _your_ son." Again, Cal was speechless. Were it any other woman, he might have thrown them out at the accusation. But the idea that their brief, awkward time together could have produced something so…precious. He looked at her with a brokenness that she did not expect.

"Rose," He whispered. "The article was a lie. We…we lost a LOT. I don't know if the company will stay afloat and…I would if I could, but I cannot support your son."

"I don't want that, I didn't come to ask for anything, Cal." She too stubbed out her smoke. "I wanted you to know…to finally know. I should have told you ages ago but I was so afraid that…well it doesn't matter now, does it?" She stood. "If you want to know him, you can. You don't need to support him to know him. He knows about you, he has no interest in any inheritance. He just wants to know his dad."

He scoffed at that. "I suspect you neglected to tell him that his idea of a 'dad' is quite different from what I was raised to give him." Still, the idea did brighten a dark part of him that had died in the North Atlantic. He had been her first. He had that over Dawson, that and the boy. I always win, Jack. One way or another. He finally glanced up at her. "Going so soon?"

She sighed. "I told you what I came to tell you. Char is here, well, he's in Pennsylvania attending the University."

"I take it you don't live here then."

"No, I've been in Iowa. I have a train back tomorrow." She paused, and smiled softly. "I'm glad I came. I always wondered what you would look like as an old man."

The cheekiness of the comment brought a wave of arousal that he did not expect. Staring at her, he stood, and walked around the desk to take a few steps closer to her. "I'm hardly old. I'm not nearly as old as my father was when we were together," He saw Rose's lips part and knew her breathing had quickened. She shifted uncomfortably, but he was relentless and stepped as close as he could, backing her up against the wall. "I'm still the most handsome man you will ever know." Bending his head he turned to bury his face in her neck, inhaling the sweet scent of her perfume.

Rose nearly gasped at the warmth of his breath on her neck and the light scrape of his stubble on her skin. Jesus. She hadn't ever reacted this way to him as a teenager. She didn't think she would have reacted this way to him if she had just made it back to Philadelphia to marry him and have all of his children. She had Jack to thank for awakening her womanly desire on board Titanic. If only she could figure out why it was acting up now.

Suddenly, his lips opened and closed around her supple skin and she moaned out loud, her entire body engulfed in fire. She had melted beneath him against the wall and Cal smiled against her skin. One hand moved to lock the door, the other slid up her body to cup one of her breasts, marveling at the weight of it as his finger searched for her nipple. Gasping, Rose's hand covered his, and his lifted his head to look at her, her mouth trembled a moment before she whispered. "Not too hard, still some milk in there."

He nodded his understanding, her youngest was still weaning then. He pressed his forehead to hers and lost himself in just knowing who she was, and how long it had been since he had touched her. Seventeen years. Seventeen years long years mourning the loss of her beautiful, moony face and lively green eyes. Lamenting his second choice in bride. Rose stared up into his face and then closed her eyes, tilting her head to press her lips against his. He accepted her kiss and returned it with vigor, his hands moving to draw her body against his, letting her feel his desire for her against her belly.

She made a noise he could not readily identify and suddenly she was pushing him forward, but not breaking the kiss. She guided him back to his comfortable office chair and sat him down in it. He moaned when she realized what she was doing, and quickly undid his trousers as she unfastened her dress, letting it pool around her ankles. Despite having given birth within the past year, she was not terribly different from what he remembered. Her skin was still soft and milky, her belly was only slightly pudgier and her breasts sagged slightly but were fuller than they had been at seventeen.

She removed her underwear and he kicked his pants away. She did not join him immediately though, instead, she surprised him by opening his shirt. She didn't push it off, just opened it and kissed a trail down is neck and over his chest, marveling at the tufts of hair before she couldn't stand it anymore. Meeting his gaze, noting the wonder in his eyes, she climbed up, slipping a knee on either side of his. The chair was just wide enough to accommodate them with way. Before she had a chance to lower herself onto him, he used his fingers to slip between her thighs, testing if she truly wanted this. He was pleasantly surprised at the dampness he found there, something he had always had to work at when she was younger.

Rose was not patient enough to wait though, so she batted his hand out of her way and steadied him with her hand before she lowered herself around him. They moaned in unison, and her arms moved around his neck. He slipped his around her waist and thrust in unison with her, stealing long, passionate kisses, marveling at her willingness, and in a way, at her seediness. Here she had come to tell him about his son, whom he had almost fathered legitimately, and she had ended up in his lap, writhing in pleasure he wasn't previously sure he could cause her. He dropped his face to spread kisses along her neck and shoulders and one of her hands wound up stroking through his hair.

He caressed her other breast ever so gently and thrust a little harder as his breathing became more labored. Rose was familiar, and beautiful, and in a way, she was home. She was his life before having to take over this damned company. Before the money was so much in jeopardy. She was security he longed for, and it did not take him long to reach his release, shortly after he felt her tense and clench around him, something he had never ever experienced with his wife at present. As he emptied himself inside of her, she clutched him tight against her and whispered his name several times as she came down from the heavens with him.

When Cal could think again, they were still stuck together. Rose was comfortably slumped against him and he was holding her tightly, his cheek pressed against hers, sticking with sweat. After a few moments he swallowed hard and whispered. "Come away with me. We'll go away. We'll get away from all of this. I will make your life extraordinary again." She whimpered and he kissed her jaw feverishly. "We'll take Charlie. He'll have us both again…Rose. Rose I love you." He let out a shaky breath. "I've never loved anyone this way."

She was surprised at how easily it came out. "I love you, too." Lifting her face back from his she stroked his cheek, brushing sweaty hair from his face. "I do. And I wish we could have that life, but I can't leave my kids, Cal. And you can't leave yours."

She stood from him and began to dress, and he was left feeling empty. He watched her and sighed. His children were greedy and ungrateful, dull and frustrating. He imagined her children were much more interesting, fiery and brave like their mother. He hoped her little girls looked like her. He wondered if Charles looked more like her or him. She noticed the look on his face and paused, watching him. When he noticed, he shrugged. "My children are…more reliant on my money than on me."

She frowned slightly, and as much as she wanted to, she didn't think she could leave John and raise her own kids with Cal. She walked back to him and bent to kiss him deeply, cupping his face as she did. After it ended, she stood up straight. "Perhaps…we can discuss it further some time. I really need to go for now. All right?"

"All right."

She watched him and saw the hopelessness in his face and she sighed. "Cal, you might not realize it now but you're a survivor. You made it through Titanic. You'll make it through this." She touched his shoulder and smiled sweetly at him. "I have faith in you, Cal."

As she swept out the door she paused to look back and smiled. "I'll be back. I promise." He nodded in reply and smiled softly, waving for her to shut the door so he could stand and dress. When he was clothed, he moved to his office telephone and asked to be connected to Pennsylvania State, and then asked to speak with Charles Dawson.

After a few moments, another voice came on the line. "Mother is that you? Did everything go all right?"

Cal was speechless at first but he finally found his voice. "Erm, she just left. I thought I'd let you know, she'll probably be there to see you soon."

There was a pause and the boy took a deep breath. "Is this…Mr. Hockley?"

He nodded, as if his son could see him. "It is."

Charles swallowed audibly. "Thank you, sir."

Nodding, Cal tried to think of something else to say and took a deep, shaky breath. "Yes you, you're welcome. You're…take care of her, son." He hung up the receiver and walked to his desk to dig out yet another cigarette. He lit it and took several long drags, remembering the sound of his name on her lips and the way she had smiled at him. It had taken much longer than he had expected, but Rose had finally opened her heart to him.

_Your sultry eyes, your common kiss_

_I'm in disguise, it's something I miss_

_Your lipstick smears, I'm feeling gray_

_Without much time to take me away._

* * *

[1996]

Rose opened her eyes and sighed sadly. She put the article away and sealed the photo back up, setting it back on her dresser. Next to it was a photo of her youngest child, her daughter, Callyn. The only of her three daughters that did not inherit her red hair, but instead had a thick head of black hair. Biting back a sob, she opened the drawer and removed the violet dress she had worn the day of the sinking, and unfolded it to reveal the Heart of the Ocean.

It was time to die and find her absolution at last, hopefully with Jack at her side, so she would feel safe, loved and at peace at last. Perhaps she would find Cal again in heaven, but she felt like maybe, perhaps, after everything that had happened, that would be the worst possible thing that could happen.


	2. Part 2

Part Two

An-

Thanks for the responses I got! I've really become intrigued by this angle to Rose and Cal, and I will be uploading a final third part to this story soon! Super big thanks to 'dizzynetbookgirl' who reviewed. She's got one of the best Rose/Cal stories I've ever read up on the site, called _Consolation Prize_, please check it out if you like this story!

* * *

[November 24, 1929.]

"Charles, please straighten your tie."

Charles Dawson fixed his mother with a suspicious eye, but sighed and nodded obediently. She was not one to be ignored, especially when acting as his mother, and he was nervous enough. With slightly shaky hands, he straightened the tie of his day suit and smoothed it, inhaling deeply. Rose would glance over at him from the corner of her eye and he would only get more nervous. "I don't see what any of the fuss is about."

_It doesn't look any bigger than the Mauretania._

Startled by the memory she smiled gently at him, trying to brush off the feelings that stirred up with it. "There's fuss because he is a very influential person." She took her own shot at straightening his tie, sighing. "And he's your father."

"Mother, we've talked all about your time condemned to solitary privilege before…" He reminded gently. "Just because he was born with a silver spoon stuck up his a-…"

"Charles," She quickly reprimanded him only to earn a sly little grin. Rose coughed away her nerves and laughed, shaking her head. "Darling, I'm not asking you to suddenly live the life I gave up but he's your father. And he's lost so much," She shook her head. "I raised you to be different than his other children. I raised you to have a soul, now kindly use it."

It was a warm little joke and he nodded, suddenly aware of the car that had just stopped across the street from where they were waiting outside a hotel. Waving to his mother, Charles lead her across the street to where the driver had stopped. He couldn't help but stain to see into the backseat as he circled the vehicle, and before he had a chance to open the door for her, it opened from the inside. Cal poked his head to look at them and offered a slight smile. "Come on, it's freezing."

Charming. Rose took Cal's offered hand and he helped her climb in and once she was safely seated, Charles slid in next to her. "It was so kind of you to come so quickly when you asked us to wait outside of the hotel." Charles muttered, eliciting a surprised expression from Cal, who looked at Rose with something twinkling in his eyes. She blushed and took Charles hand to give it a tight little squeeze. He glanced at her and grew silent.

Cal cleared his throat and addressed Rose. "I see that the apple did not fall very far from the tree." He studied his son with interest, noting the physical resemblance in his eyes, build and expression. He had Rose's quirky smile though, something that pleased him oddly.

"You have no idea," Rose replied with a glance at her eldest child, her eyes narrowing slightly. Charles shrugged at her, his eyes widening in frustration. "If only my mother had lived to see the day that she had such a mindful grandchild."

Cal was busy lighting a cigarette, and he scoffed at what she was saying. "Your mother did live to that day, but I sort of prefer to know she went to her grave oblivious to the fact that I…" He exhaled a large puff of smoke, earning a slight glare from Charles. "..deflowered her most prized…_possession." _Again, Rose blushed, and dropped her gaze. "Although I have to wonder what life would have been like, had you come found me."

Rose was quiet, she had wondered much the same thing over the years. What he would have said, how he would have treated her. If he would have believed that she had not been carrying Jack's child until he had been born. She wondered if their marriage might have actually been happy. If their blissful hour together in his office was any indication, she felt like it might have been.

Charles watched them with measured interest and sighed, looking out the window. He had agreed to one car ride to his classes that afternoon, and he was beginning to regret it. Having been raised poor and content, he wasn't really buying into the whole rich and miserable deal. Cal noticed his boredom and tilted his head a little, dragging on his cigarette.

"So what are you studying?"

"Business," He replied smoothly, not turning his gaze from where he was looking out the window.

Cal wasn't looking to push him. He nodded and smiled softly, flicking his ash into a tray. "Perhaps once you graduate you can come and work for the firm." Rose's interest seemed piqued and he stubbed the rest of the cigarette out. "God only knows your brothers don't have a lick of business sense in them."

"My brother is four years old." He commented, shaking his head.

Cal smiled at that and shrugged. "The brother you know, sure. I wouldn't blame you for not wanting to associate yourself with the others, but you can. If it would interest you." He rubbed at his chin. "Perhaps you would be a good influence on them."

Charles was thoughtful and he paused to think it over, reluctantly raising his eyes to Cal. "My other brothers?"

His father nodded. "Nathaniel and James. Fifteen and eleven years old."

"Nathaniel and James Hockley." Charles mused, shaking his head.

"Charles, Nathaniel and James Hockley." Cal corrected, sinking into the plush upholstery of the car.

Rose took a deep breath and watched her eldest child a moment. He was contemplative, his brow furrowed the same way Cal's did, and it made her heart thud strangely. He shook his head suddenly, bringing her back down very quickly. "I'm a Dawson, Mr. Hockley. Maybe not the same kind of Dawson Jack was, but I'm the kind of Dawson that Mother raised me to be." The car had just come to a stop in front of his building and he made to leave.

Cal touched his elbow. "You may have been born a Dawson, you may feel like one. You may detest the life I have been bred to accept and you're not wrong in doing so," He shook his head. "But I'm told you're smart and I need your help. If you change your mind, and I hope you will. Telephone me. Please. I'm not asking to be your father, Charles. I don't have the right to do that."

Charles stared at the man who was imploring him, and he nodded hesitantly before taking his mother's hand to kiss the back. Slipping entirely from the car, he hurried inside and out of their sight. Rose watched him with moist eyes, her hands wringing in front of her as she tried to comprehend all the wrong she had done to bring them to this moment.

* * *

[October 5th, 1912]

It was almost over. Rose had been in agony for nearly two days and the doctor had finally assured her that in just a few short moments, the evil little creature that had been growing inside of her all that time was going to be born. She had spent the past six months considering what she would do, and had finally decided that handing it off to be taken to it's father was the best call. She wouldn't have to look at it and remember how it had come about, and it would never remember the mother that had abandoned it to that terrible life.

"All right Miss Dawson, this is going to be the last push. Push down hard onto your bottom and don't stop until I tell you!" His hands were ready and he nodded for her to push. Rose cried with the strain of delivering the child, and gave it all of her might before suddenly the pain and contractions stopped. She stared in a haze as he lifted the bloody little body up from between her legs. He was fat, and his head was covered in lots of dark hair. Cal's son, without a doubt. The doctor clamped and cut the cord that attached mother and son and set him against her bare breast, showing Rose how to hold him properly before he went back to his work. Now that she could see his eyes, still blue, Rose felt her heart give an odd pang. This was also her son. He had her big lips and her chin and Ruth Dewitt Bukater's long, thin fingers. Sobbing, she gathered him more closely to her. "Oh you little darling!"

The doctor smiled up at her. "Did you have a name in mind?"

"Oh," _Satan Jr?_ She shook her head. "I don't know. Caledon perhaps, after his father." The doctor was making quite a fact at that and she raised her eyebrow, unable to stop a smile. "What?"

"It's your baby, Madam. Just…it's a heavy name for a little tyke. Perhaps something a little lighter, hmm? I wouldn't suspect a mother that loves her son would name him Caledon."

"I suppose not," She said softly, bopping the baby in her arms. "Hmm. What are you? A Michael? A James?" She smiled as he tried to suckle her finger, shook her head. "No, you like a lot more like a Charlie."

* * *

[1929]

"Rose?"

She looked over at Cal and took a deep breath, wiping at the tears that had fallen down her face. "I'm afraid…I've just made too many mistakes with him. I'm sorry."

Cal watched the sadness in her face and he scooted in a little closer. Brushing the hair from her face he smiled at her. "He's a good strong lad, you did fine." She made to argue but Cal ducked and took her chin in between his fingers, kissing her. Rose found that it was impossible to fight that, and she melted into the gentle heat that he created between them.

Cal recalled when she was much younger their kisses had never been particularly thrilling. She would usually peck at his lips and cheeks to keep him at bay and when he did manage to steal a kiss from her mouth, she would keep her lips sealed tightly. Kissing her now, she was soft and pliant and her mouth opened at his tongue's gentle inquiry, making him chuckle and deepen the pressure, cupping her face.

He made her skin burn and her mouth was weak against his strong insistence and as butterflies danced around the inside of her belly, Rose knew she would not be able to resist him this time any more than the last. However, Cal was too much of a gentleman to take advantage of her in that car with the driver sitting up front, no matter how well paid he was. He broke the kiss and pressed a few more kisses to her temples and forehead, slipping his arm around her shoulders.

"Let's go back to your hotel. I have something I want to discuss with you."

They had come straight back and Rose had half expected him to drag her right to bed, but clearly his lust was not his primary concern. He had gone right to her liquor cabinet to retrieve some scotch and asked her to sit at the table. Rather than pouring glasses, he had just brought the bottle. Taking a seat with her, he opened it with practiced ease and took a long drink from it. "I have..set aside some funds. Enough so we can get away and have a fresh start of things."

"Cal…"

"Please, let me finish." She was effectively silenced, and Cal took another swig of the alcohol. "I cannot..make due with things the way they are. My wife and I…we have scarcely spoken in well over a year. My children are just biding their time until I'm dead and they can inherit riches that I no longer have." He shook his head. "I can secure a train ride to California. I can secure a home. From there I'll have ten dollars in my pocket, and really nothing to offer you but myself."

_They've got you trapped, Rose._

It was like getting a second chance. No more of a secluded life as a housewife. She loved her children, but she still had things to do that she and Jack had discussed. And here was Cal, who would have been her slave owner in wealth, offering her the life she and Jack were supposed to live. Poor, sweet Jack, whom she had promised to live for. She realized suddenly that her eyes were damp with tears and she took a deep breath, reaching to cover his hand.

This was it, the moment of truth. She had about ten seconds to decide what to do with the rest of her life. She looked up at him, swallowing past a lump in her throat. "If we go…we can't be us. We'll have to be someone else entirely." She looked up into his eyes, eager for her answer. For absolution. She took another deep breath and nodded. "I want this. I want that life."

His hand tightened around hers and she saw something in his eyes that she hadn't seen since she was seventeen years old. She wasn't sure what it was at first and she became distracted when he circled the table and lifted her to her feet, bending to kiss her. Slipping her arms around his neck, she allowed him to lead her into the other room, and tumbled into the bed with him.

Later, lying in his arms and listening to the sound of his heart beating, she realized what that spark was. Life. He had his life again. She didn't know if it had left him recently or when he had thought she had been killed, but it was good to see it there. She would never have realized at a younger age how much of that shone in his eyes. He may not be rich anymore but for some reason, be it love or familiarity, he was happy to have her back with him again.

He stirred slightly and bent his head to kiss the top of hers, sighing. "What are you thinking about?"

She shifted a little so she could look up into his face, smiling softly. "The day we had together in France." Ruth had been off with lady friends and Cal had proposed they go walking together. They had ended up on the beach, sitting in chairs in the sand, watching the sun set over the waves. Cal had made some suave comment about how she was like a beach at sunset and it had been the first honest kiss they had ever shared together, followed by Cal getting her slightly drunk and convincing her to give him her body since the wedding was only five months away.

Cal chuckled and shrugged. "I certainly hope you aren't comparing."

She scoffed, but laughed softly. "No. Just thinking." She shifted onto her side next to him and nuzzled her face into his shoulder with a sigh. Cal smelled exactly as he had nearly twenty years ago, and it made her feel young and beautiful again. It almost made her feel like she had never boarded Titanic. Like it had never existed, and she had never met and fallen in love with Jack. Like she and Cal had gotten past their differences and built a life together. Was he any more her soul mate than he was before? No. She knew when she was gone she would go straight to Jack. But it taught her something about life. There was a way to create happiness.

Cal watched her get lost in her thoughts again and sighed, blissfully happy. He bent to kiss her lips once more before shutting the light off so they could sleep. Their train would depart early the next morning, and with luck, she would be there with him when it did. She leaned into him as they drifted off to sleep and Cal was grateful he hadn't already ended his life in his office, effectively drowning himself in his panic and failure.

John Calvert had had a long couple of days. Rose was overdue to come home, and Charles had hurriedly ended their expensive telephone conversation, claiming he was in the middle of a very important test. Something just didn't seem right, and unfortunately, he did not feel like he knew his wife well enough to judge what it was. His sister had been staying with him and the children to especially focus on helping care for little Samuel, who had just stopped breastfeeding at Rose's hurried insistence. He hurried home from work, and hoped above hope that when he came home, she would be sitting in their kitchen with some coffee waiting for him. However, when he came in the door, such was not the case.

The children were busily completing their chores and Sarah, his sister, had just put Samuel down for a nap. With a sigh, he walked into the kitchen and sat down for his own cup of coffee. He noticed the mail on the table and figured he may as well see what bills needed to be paid. Fortunately they didn't struggle for money, Rose's work as an actress had built them a nice nest egg to fall back on. He was surprised when he found a letter addressed to him in his wife's handwriting and at the same time, he was grateful. He opened the letter and set to reading it.

_John,_

_I'm truly sorry for the pain that this letter will cause you. I won't be returning to Cedar Rapids. I still have dreams that haven't been realized and I was trapped a little too soon to put any work into them. I love you, and the children. I'll be back for them some day, if you'd prefer. You can send any mail for me to Charlie._

_My love and gratitude,_

_Rose._


	3. Part 3

Dénouement

* * *

AN- This is the last part of this story, thanks so much for reading! I do plan to write a prequel to the film that's semi based on Rose and Cal's relationship in this story, but I'm hoping I finish MOTSD first.

* * *

[1931]

"Cal, where in God's name did you _get_ that?"

Caledon Hockly, former Pittsburgh steel tycoon, and Titanic sinking survivor poked his head up from behind the wobbly camera that he had just purchased and presented to his wife. Narrowing his eyes slightly, he shook his head, graying dark hair whipping around his eyes. "Howard sold it to me, it's not even two years old!" He continued to fiddle with it as Rose grew frustrated, the winds were picking up and the water behind her was snaking up around her ankles. It was chilly, and she wanted nothing more than to go home and curl up by the fire.

"Aha! All right, I've got it!" Rushing around the tripod he moved to stand next to Rose, and took the squirming infant from her arms. "There, there, now, Callyn darling. Smile nice for the picture!" It seemed that just in time for the timer to end, the photo was taken with Callyn tilting her head at the strange object in front of them all. Rose laughed and shook her head, reaching to run her hand along her ten month old's hair, which was dark and soft, much like her father's.

"Do you think it worked?" She asked him, smiling as she watched him dote on the baby.

He smiled at the question and lifted Callyn to smack kisses on her fat little face. "I certainly hope so, I paid twenty dollars for that heap of garbage!" Winking at her, he passed the baby back over and hurried to take the camera and tripod apart yet again. As he took it apart he continued to look up at her, and observed her as she pointed to a schooner that was passing further out at sea. Callie waved her arms and Rose laughed, planting a loving smooch to the top of her head. Rose was framed by the beautiful yellow and orange light of the setting sun, and she looked back at him with a smile, her hair coming loose from it's confines in the wind.

She was stunning, as ever. Maybe even more than she had been as a teenager.

He bagged the camera and it's equipment up and lead them up the embankment to the little cottage that they shared near the shore. It was a modest little home, when they had first arrived he had been incredibly displeased but Rose had shown him that even the most homely of shacks could be fixed up. Shortly thereafter she had announced that they were expecting yet another child together, and Cal had realized that he had seen it in her eyes in the office that day, the moment she had conceived from him. There had been a dark space that had exploded into light, and it had been magical. He wondered if it had been there when Charles had been conceived in France, and supposed he just hadn't cared to look at the time.

Coming into the house, Rose immediately set to dinner. She wasn't really any sort of housewife, she did cook, and she cared for Callyn but they typically shared the latter responsibility when he wasn't at work. He had taken over a local contracting company with the little money he had brought with him, and while it was hardly as profitable as the steel trade, especially in this day and age, they lived comfortably. On Sundays, Rose volunteered at a soup kitchen nearby and Cal would bring Callie by at the end of the dinner to say hello and sit with some friends as they pooled over the paper helping one another find jobs. In his younger days, Cal would rather have sat in a barn with a sick horse, but after having fallen on hard times himself, he found something about helping out that moved him in some way.

Plopping onto the floor with Callie, Cal picked up her favorite stuffed bunny and they played happily for twenty minutes or so before he realized she was standing in the doorway, watching him. He let the bunny go to the toddler and leaned back on his haunches, gazing up at her, noting the light golden shade her skin had turned from spending so much time in the sun. "What's going on in that head of yours, hmm?" She looked thoughtful, and then she walked over, dropped to sit in his lap. He touched her face, his hands rougher with the labor that he had taken up in his new trade, but it was something she had grown to admire about him.

"I'm trying to figure out what happened to this gentleman I once knew," She commented, reaching up to catch his hand in hers, slipping her fingers in between his. "He was a bit of a bastard. But I think he might have loved me." Their eyes locked and she smiled, the corners of her eyes crinkling a little. "I can't begin to understand how, or why. But he disappeared and I haven't seen him in a very long time."

Cal's own features grew solemn and Rose watched remorse play over his face. In her own mind, and perhaps because of her age now, she found this older Cal much more handsome. He had worry lines and his face was stubbly. His once completely dark hair was now graying in a couples of streaks near his temples and his once perfect teeth were yellowed from the years of smoking. Yet he looked at her with such reverence, she really didn't recognize him sometimes. "I think he was a boy then, Rose. Every boy has to become a man eventually."

Watching him, she shifted slightly in his grasp, her eyes moving to where Callie was, cautiously watching her tumble away toward the couch, where her favorite ball had rolled. The baby certainly hadn't been a part of the big plan, Lord knows Rose had thought she had gotten away from parenting for a while, but the joy in Cal's eyes when she had told him had answered the only question she had had about it. It was all going to be just fine.

"Come on, young man," She stood, reaching to take his hand and help him to his feet. "It's time for dinner."

* * *

[1997]

As she stepped onto the stern of the Keldysh, Rose remembered the warmth of Cal's kiss and the way he would drag her out to the sea, often literally kicking and screaming. Despite the pain of her youth, some of her best years had been with him in that beach house, collapsing into the surf, the humor of it all wearing away as he covered her and caught her a an embrace. She was blissfully free from everything that her engagement to him had terrified her about. At present, she realized that losing Jack hadn't been such a terrible tragedy, she had been destined to spend the mortal period of her life on Earth with Cal, that's why she had met him first.

Climbing up onto the railing, the night was still, and cold. Her pretty pink toenails were almost purple in the darkness, and she knew that two and a half miles below, Titanic was resting peacefully on the ocean floor. Opening her old, spotted and wrinkled hand, she gazed at the necklace she had hidden thus far from Brock Lovett. She had had it all along, her whole life, on her own and with John and then the whole of the thirty years she had spent with Cal. Tears filled her eyes as she stared at it, and felt that familiar weight of it in her palm. She hadn't worn it since the night Jack had drawn her, it hadn't felt right. Even though Cal had given it to her, she had more good memories of it that featured her doomed lover than the man who had presented it to her.

* * *

[1964]

The flash that the camera gave off startled Rose at first, it was almost like the light from 'the other side' had invaded the quiet little room for a moment, but she was brought quickly to her senses as the camera whirred with it's action. Taking a deep breath, she passed it to Cal's eldest daughter, Georgeanna, who sadly bowed her head as she left the room to go put it in the car. Rose had decided before he had even faded away that he would be brought back to Pennsylvania for his funeral services, and from there he was to be buried on his family's estate in Pittsburgh.

Folding her hands in front of her she stared down into his face, frowning. He looked peaceful enough, serene, even. He was dressed in his best and his gray hair had been slicked back in a way she hadn't seen since the early 1900's when they had first been engaged. But it was strange seeing him lying there in the casket, with his hands folded on his abdomen. This was not the Caledon Hockley she had known and loved for more than thirty years. This was a strange man.

When Jack had died he had truly looked like he had just fallen asleep. She didn't understand how they had made Cal look so incredibly dead, but it disturbed her in a way. Turning away from his body, she found herself face to face with Charles, who smiled softly. He was in his 50's now, and his handsome visage reminded her greatly of her lost husband. She managed a smile past tears and he moved to scoop her up into his arms, shaking his head. "It's all right, Mother, I know."

Callyn was seated nearby, with her own husband and their elder child, Elizabeth, who was pushing two years old. Rose called her Lizzie. Their other child, their son Andrew, had been left at home with a nanny. They had brought Lizzie, for the most part, to keep Rose's mind off of her loss, and it worked, to a degree. She was a very bright little girl with blonde hair and green eyes and she reminded Rose a great deal of herself as a child. Releasing herself from her son's grasp, she walked over to scoop the toddler up, planting a kiss on her forehead.

All of Cal's children were attending and all of Rose's had sent cards expressing their sympathies (they would not dare attend the funeral of the man whom their mother had left their father for). Rose didn't blame them, she probably would have done the same. Hell, at least she knew the kids were getting something good from her.

Lizzie went back to Callie after a little while, and people started to leave the chapel until it was just Rose and what was left of Cal. Taking a deep breath, she walked over to the casket and bent to kiss his mouth ever so lightly (irrationally afraid of what might have become of him after his death). When she opened her eyes, he was still lying there peacefully, his mouth turned in a naturally soft smile. She touched his hand, cool and stiff and so unlike him, and then gave it a pat, smiling past her tears. "Thank you, for everything." She whispered, shaking her head. "I'll never forget any of it, Cal. I'll never forget who you turned out to be."

* * *

[1997]

"Boss, something bothers me about all this."

"Something always bothers you, Lewis."

"Yeah, but," Following his boss through the halls of the research vessel, Lewis shook his head, his brow furrowed. "When I did the research it sort of ended with Calvert and his Missus in Cedar Rapids, but when I talked to her younger son he said I'd have to call his younger sister," Brock looked at him and his face was a mask of complete boredom. His frustrated first mate sighed. "Boss there is no younger Calvert kid. She doesn't exist."

Suddenly interested, Brock took the pile of papers from Lewis and opened up to a dossier on Cal, skimming through a list. "There's a Callyn Hockley here, born in 1930," He paused, his finger stuck. "Who has a daughter named Elizabeth Sharp who was born in 1962." Cursing, he hurried up the stairs to the next deck. "I assumed her name was Calvert too, I never expected she went back to her goddamn ex!"

* * *

[1930]

The sea water was warm and sloshed up Rose's swollen ankles rapidly as she stretched her legs into the water. It was sort of soothing to watch, despite her bad experiences with ocean water so far. She was so distracted by it that she didn't hear Cal traipsing across the sand behind her, coming around to sit next to her on the edge of the surf. He startled her only briefly before she managed a nervous smile, her hand moving to settle over her swollen midsection.

"Sorry, did I frighten you?"

"I just didn't hear you coming," She said softly, allowing him to wrap his arm around her shoulders. The pregnancy had introduced a guarded side of her that he had not seen since he had been vying for her affection, and he was somewhat startled for a while at her nerves, but he realized that at that point, he didn't have the best track record. He had just left one wife to run off to California with a younger woman, what was to stop him from abandoning her ?

"Are you all right? You've been so quiet."

Rose returned her gaze to the sea and she dropped her hand from her waist to clutch at his hand, her fingers lacing naturally with his. "I need for you to make me a promise if this is going to work in the long run, Cal." Glancing into his face, she saw seriousness there. She sighed at the sight. "I just need for you to promise that this is it. We're it. I want to be the last person that you love in your lifetime." She kissed his hand. "I know it hasn't worked out the way you used to think it would but we have all we need. And you'll be the last person I love so long as I'm alive."

Cal chuckled slightly, which surprised her, and by the look on her face outraged her slightly. Cal shook his head quickly and kissed her hand in return. "Rose, you are the _only _woman I have ever loved in my mortal life. That's not going to change."

Blushing, she leaned into him a little more, unable to release his hand all the same. "Well, that's a proper wedding there, if I ever attended one."

Cal smiled, one hand squeezing hers in his lap, the other rubbing across her back and shoulders. "It's all the wedding we need."

* * *

[1997]

The necklace was gone, at last. And Rose was ready.

She had only just returned to her 'stateroom' on board the Keldysh, and she paused one last time to look at the photos on the dresser. The familiar picture of her on the Santa Monica Pier, the ones of her children, a rare, older photo of her and her mother that she had retrieved from Cal's estate when he had died, her old headshot and even the photo of her, Cal and Callie on the beach of the beach house, smiling, with Callie craning her neck strangely as she stared at the camera. She only wished there were a photo of Jack to see her off on this last part of the journey.

When Lovett came to find her to ask her about the necklace again, she was already curled up under the covers, and still warm, but she had passed peacefully. He woke Lizzie, who briefly attempted to resuscitate her, and then crawled into bed with her to cry and say goodbye before orders were given to take the ship back to port so a funeral director could meet them.

* * *

[Infinity]

Rose was comfortably sprawled on a deck chair, restored to her youth, and long since reunited with Jack. He was in the chair next to hers, and he was dressed only in a swimming suit that seemed entirely too dressy, but there were constantly people passing by, reminding her that just because they were dead, did not mean they could be so improper. Popping an eye open, Jack glanced over at her, his mouth twisting in a snide little smirk. "You know I can basically hear your thoughts at this point, Rose. You have no secrets."

"That's no excuse to broadcast them," She offered, leaning with him to close the space between the chairs, catching his mouth in a soft, serene kiss.

"I can't get over how long the past eighty four years have felt without you…"

"This whole arrangement was of your design, I would happily have died in that water with you," She reminded him, touching his face gently and marveling at the way his eyes still sparkled.

"Nah," He shook his head. "If you hadn't lived Cal wouldn't have redeemed himself and none of your kids or grandkids would ever have existed." He smiled a little, brushing her bright red hair out of her eyes. "The world was a little bit better of a place with you populating it, Rose."

His words rang in her head and she smiled. "I think Cal could have redeemed himself no matter what. But I do see your point," She moved from her chair into his, crawling up into his arms. "Scares me a little to think you were watching us all of that time, Jack."

"Someone had to look out for ya," He mused softly, kissing the top of her head. "So are you ready to see Cal again?"

She looked up into his sun kissed face for a moment and considered it, then shrugged, settling in close to him again. "Maybe in a while, I spent thirty three years with him, I've been waiting almost a hundred to see you again."

He laughed, shaking his head. "Good call," Drawing her up close to his face, he kissed her, they truly had all of the time in the world and then some for him to take her to see everyone that she had known and loved in her life, there was no sense in rushing things along. The sun melted away as the mood changed and the walls shifted around them to form a stateroom that may or may not have existed on the actual ship, that was all their own and impossible for anyone to disturb them in. It was better than anything he would have been able to give her in life.

And that was enough forever more.

Some time later, though Rose had no real sense of time now, Jack had guided her to a door leading to the bridge. She had been hesitant to enter, feeling like she was trespassing, but he insisted that everything would be okay and that she could come back through any time. Opening it, she saw the beach. And instantly she knew she was back at the beach house.

When she turned and shut the door behind her, it was suddenly the front door of the house. She dashed down the sand to the shore and saw Cal sitting in the sand with his favorite brand of beer at hand. Walking slowly over to him, she snuck up as quietly as she could and laughed when he jumped as she reached down and took the beer out of his hand.

"Hello, Cal."

Glancing up at her, his eyes glazed over drunkenly, he smiled and patted the sand next to him. She sat without hesitation, staring out at that familiar piece of sea. "I'd heard that you'd finally made your way down here," He said smoothly, glancing over at her with a thoughtful expression. "I've missed you."

"I missed you too," She replied, not sure of what else to really say with all the time in the world at her feet.

"Charles is just getting dinner," He pointed down the shore, where their son, around ten years old to her sight was throwing a fishing line out to sea. "Care to join us?"

She watched the little boy with a warm smile. Her first child, it had cut her deeply when he had passed before her. She shook her head, patting her former husband's hand gently. "No, I had a lot of good years with him, darling. It's your turn to spend a little time with him."

"Well don't hesitate to come by. We'll be here."

She nodded, taking another look around his heaven again before she kissed his cheek. "I love you, Cal." She whispered, before she stood and made her way toward the house, where Jack was leaning in the doorway, smiling to himself. She watched him, and her seventeen year old heart pounded with exhilaration she had nearly forgotten. Gathering up her skirts, she hurried up his way, shaking the sand off of her bottom. Jack offered her his arm and guided her back to their heaven on the Titanic, and Rose, at peace knowing she could visit other people's heavens any time, happily followed him, eager to see what else the afterlife had to offer her.

The End.


End file.
